Free
by EternalFalsity
Summary: Companion piece to "Chasing Him" Killua thinks about the past and future


_**Happy**_

Outsiders given a glimpse of Killua's past came to the misguided conclusion that prior to the young ex-assassin's encounter with Gon, he never experienced any form of pleasure.

They were wrong.

His family may not have been ideal, but they definitely treasured him. After all, he was their prodigy… their precious weapon.

Aside from the overwhelming expectations his parents and elder brothers held for him, Killua had two younger siblings who genuinely adored him. Whether it be catching bugs, playing hide-and-seek, cutting paper chain dolls, or simply enjoying the "innocence" of childhood, they had fun together.

Happiness emerged from the simplest of interactions with his loved ones. Happiness itself was a simple concept.

Gon merely introduced him to a different form of happiness, a higher level of affection. While Killua's curiosity pushed him to hesitantly venture the unknown, Gon happily embraced and nurtured the boy's explorative side, encouraging and fueling the excitement.

_**Free**_

Not until Killua had the tasted the fruits of freedom—met Gon—did he realize he never wanted to relive his assassin days. He saw an opportunity to escape the forced expectations and the burden of fate that supposedly flowed through his bloodstream. The cautious, frosty haired boy never felt more normal than his days spent competing in the Hunter Exams. There was place outside murder for him, even an ex-assassin as tainted as himself could have friends, _best friends_.

His parents made the mistake of letting the bird out of the cage, as if something with such tremendous potential would ever again subject itself to recapture.

Even upon his temporary imprisonment his curiosity only flourished, continuously accelerating achieving new heights. The assassin family couldn't manage to halt the boy's evolution. Their pale, catlike boy had been given glimpse of light, his imagination ran wild, fantasizing the possibilities, _the potential, the freedom._

Mother couldn't shelter him, Silva long ago realized in the blink of an eye the point of no return had been crossed. To break the creature's wings—deprive him of liberation—would shatter all prospects of potential, rendering it useless.

Rather than foolishly attempting to re-cage the boy, the family agreed to embark on the journey of patience. Hoping that all the torture, and mental conditioning would pay off, and Killua would realize where he belonged.

_**Regretful**_

Raised as a killer, his morals hadn't been properly nourished.

Luckily, his childhood assassinations were _relatively_ guilt-free. His targets were generally corrupt, filthy people. Not to claim ignorantly claim that Killua could play God, and deem who did and didn't deserve to live, but it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that not many people were upset at the death of his prey.

Still, as he aged the regrets continued to grow, tangling themselves around his limbs, caging the bird.

It's easy to say that it's not someone's fault, especially when it isn't. But when it comes to yourself, it's just immensely difficult. Not only must we seek the forgiveness of others, knowing the possibility we may never receive that desired clemency, but we must also forgive ourselves.

To the ordinary eye, Killua must be a masochist. Constantly dwelling on little actions, letting himself be caught in his own inner-turmoil, letting himself be trampled upon like a used, underappreciated doormat. What once used to be appreciated and beautiful, now appeared worthless. Burdensome.

Realizing his own position, he still blamed himself for Gon's self-destructive behavior. Especially during _that _game.

The dodgeball game, his hands bloodied and swollen, the memory of Gon's glare permanently etched in his memory. The moment Killua dodged the ball, the second Gon became aware Killua only survived out of pure chance.

Guiltily, Killua felt a tinge of happiness knowing Gon was angry for him. Instead of alleviating Gon of his rage, he assisted it. He let Gon have his hands, the two most important appendages required for self-defense. All for the sake of feeling needed, _special. _

He thought to himself _Gon's greedy. For me. _Not the power-hungry, manipulative greedy Illumi had for Killua, but the good nice type of selfishness, the feeling of wanting someone to feel the same happiness that you do, the desire to share the joys of existence and company with one another.

From beginning of the journey, he declared it his mission to protect Gon, after all the ex-assassin was the more mature of the two.

For once he let himself be happy and bask in the joys of being wanted, _treasured. _Relishing on the joys of having his desires reciprocated, yet in the end he ultimately failed the initial goal to protect his precious friend.

_**Resentment **_

"_I need to save you, but who's going to save me?" _

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment, in which somewhere along his encounter with Gon he decided he would save not only himself, but the cheeky brat too. Perhaps the idea came along when he saw how gentle, _clean _his best friend was.

Unlike Gon who preferred rehabilitation over retribution, the snow skinned boy ruthlessly decapitated opponents, with fist strong enough to decimate mountains, but in the end succumbed to silence of all things.

Not the euphoric silence bathed in contentment, but the deafening silence, where growth doesn't exist. The kind where words that should be said aren't. Because of the fear of change. The fear that things will irreversibly be altered,_ damaged_.

His brutally abused hands were the beginning of the decline, the fall he couldn't fly his way out of. The feline boy couldn't grasp his own willingness to sacrifice his body. Questions kept arising in the boys mind, insecurities began to emerge.

In the process of becoming best friends, had he made himself a tool for Gon to utilize? Was he disposable?

"_Only Killua can do it"_

What did that mean?

Gon was _supposed_ to be simple. After the beaten hands, the night spent at the hospital, the mission to cure Gon and the absence of apologies, his sadness rapidly shifted into anger. Was Gon's fury, really for Killua's sake?

"_I'll make him apologize"_

Upon their reunion Killua realized how effortless forgiving Gon was—or how hard it was to not forgive Gon. His best friend flashed an apologetic half-smile, dropping to the floor in distress and remorse, just like a whiny, childish brat…it was Killua's favorite version of Gon.

As much as he wished to hold the grudge—_the anger _ —a little bit longer, he knew it wasn't worth it. The overwhelming desire to simply move forward overrode the bitter feelings of resentment.

_**Home**_

Illumi saw Killua as one of his needlemen. His parents saw Killua as an asset, a simple investment.

Then there was his grandfather Zeno had gotten along with Netero, who through age and experience had encountered various personalities and values. Zeno knew Killua wasn't an ordinary Zolydck, something unique separated him from the rest of the family. Though he couldn't lay a finger on what specifically distinguished his grandson from his other grandchildren, he knew that unlike the other Zoldycks, Killua couldn't reach his potential without freedom.

Zeno knew from the start Killua wouldn't be profitable, but he still remained the favorite grandchild. The favoritism didn't necessarily have some form of logic or reasoning, it was simply one of those mysterious feelings that didn't require justification.

Killua never quite understood the loyalty of his butlers. Whether it be out of fear or respect, they were too robotic, the thought roused disturbing images of slavery and captivity. Canary outshined the rest, she had become a dear friend to Killua, and he couldn't have been more grateful for her existence. Defying all formalities, she always supported Killua's rebellious actions, and most importantly defended his quest towards liberation. He considered himself lucky to be blessed with such undeserved devotion.

_**Gon**_

_Explosive, selfish, stupid, warm, safe, mine. _

The kind, genuine hunter kept invading his thoughts, even after their departure Killua couldn't catch a break.

He fell in love.

The bitter resentment buried itself beneath the warmth of love

Separation itself wouldn't have been so painful if it weren't for the awkward departure. Necessary closure hadn't been received, and promises of reunion were voiced half-heartedly.

Neither of the two exhibited any desire for distance, but distance too became necessary. They needed to think, to reevaluate how far they were willing to fall for each other.

Everything about Gon was simple, ordinary, plain. Yet the cheeky hunter was so extraordinary, so special, so damn bright. The adventurous boy outshined the rest, he brought forth an urge of excitement in Killua. For the first time, someone wanted to claim Killua, not with the intent of captivity, but out of desire for companionship.

Killua held this façade, believing that if he didn't have any hopes, he couldn't be hurt. Just being with Gon was enough to satisfy him.

But the acceptance of being satisfied with nothing more than Gon's presence only introduced their separation. Neither could voice an _excuse_ to remain united. It wouldn't be logical, it wouldn't be efficient. Since none of the things that used to matter, mattered anymore. He couldn't protect Gon, he couldn't be of use to Gon.

Truthfully, tonight he didn't care. Later on when he felt stronger, more confident he would find Gon himself. Without need to formulate excuses or find justification for his desire to be with Gon, he would embrace freedom with open arms once more.

Not because he needed a relationship to complete him. Just simply because he wanted to, and that alone would be enough.

Reciprocated or not these feelings needed to be expressed, to be set free.


End file.
